


Some Surprises Really Aren't That Surprising

by scratches



Series: Soul Mates [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brock has the WORST family, Brock has the best family, Christmas Time, F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, Surprises, soul mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:15:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28417467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scratches/pseuds/scratches
Summary: There's a Christmas surprise in store for Darcy and Brock on their second Christmas together
Relationships: Darcy Lewis/Brock Rumlow
Series: Soul Mates [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2081313
Comments: 16
Kudos: 133





	Some Surprises Really Aren't That Surprising

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS
> 
> also not beta'd idgaf. i wrote it and posted it. woops

The second Christmas season that Darcy spent with Brock’s family was one for the books. Somehow, every year, Brock cashed in on favors that people owed him to get the days off. It was nice, even if she had to set up in the office for a few hours everyday to brief upper SHIELD about world events. 

The third day of staying with Brock’s family was the twenty third and his mother was in full on cooking mode. Last year Darcy and Brock had missed this part of the festivities. His sisters were already there with their children. They rode the subway earlier in the day to get to the house early to cut up vegetables, marinate chicken, make desserts, and pull tables and chairs out of the attic, put all the valuables up into the spare bedrooms, and clean the basement for the next night. 

The first wiff of cooking seafood had Darcy gagging and running to the bathroom. Brock looked up from his laptop next to her, where he was trying to finish last minute reports, and followed her to the bathroom. He pulled her hair to the side as she held onto the bowl, face ashen and hands shaking. “Oh my god,” the smell of fish hit her again before Darcy leaned over the bowl and puked the rest of her breakfast up.

“This is the third time you’ve been sick since being here,” Brock said before moving to the linen closet to grab a cloth. The damp cloth pressed against her forehead and he asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Close the door,” Darcy waved her hand behind them. “Fuck, close the door.” She gagged again. Her body rolled over and she draped the cold cloth over the entirety of her face. “

“You’re sure you didn’t have bad Chinese before we left D.C?” Brock lifted his pants at his thighs and crouched down next to her, balancing on his feet. 

The deadpan look she gave him was really all he needed to know but Darcy said, “I don’t have the shits, dude.” Very blunt and very Darcy.

He held his hands up in surrender, “I don’t know these things.” 

They sat there for a few minutes and they listened to his family moving around the kitchen and the kids running around the house. The house was never quiet, not even in the dead of night, Valentina could be heard scraping and painting upstairs or Vic would be using his dremel in the basement. She’s even heard Brock pacing downstairs coordinating maneuvers with SHIELD. The silence grew and Brock eventually shuffled and sat next to her. Darcy grabbed his hand and squeezed it before sighing heavily. His other hand reached out, dropped the lid to the toilet and flushed it. 

“You don’t have a fever?” He asked.

Darcy shook her head, “I just feel like shit.”

He knew that too. Darcy had been tossing and turning in bed for weeks. Her bones hurt, her back hurt, her chest hurt, and she was breaking out across her chin and cheeks. “We can go to Urgent Care if you need to.”

“I just need them to stop cooking fish.” Brock looked at her like she was speaking a different language, “I know that isn’t going to happen, but, holy crap, I’m probably going to be in here all day.”

There was a tapping at the door before the knob turned. “Occupied,” Brock barked.

“No shit, Sherlock,” Maria popped her head in, eyes closed. “Do you both have your clothes on?” 

“What do you want,” Darcy whined.

His sister’s eyes opened and she looked down at the two of them. “Wow, you look like crap, kid.” 

“I know,” Darcy sniffed under the cloth.

“Seriously, Maria, what do you want.” Brock gripped Darcy’s hand tightly before letting it go.

The dark haired woman opened the door just enough to move in and snapped it closed behind her. “I know you’re trying to keep it a secret and all, but you’ll probably give Non’s a heart attack if you wait until tomorrow night.” She leaned against the heavy oak door of the bathroom.

Darcy pulled the cloth off of her face and stared at Maria, “What?”

“There isn’t a secret.” Brock stood up and crossed his arms, matching his younger sister’s stance. 

Her hazel eyes grew wide and she started to laugh, “Wait, really?” Maria held the knob and laughed a little more. “For real?”

Darcy listened as Brock sternly said something in rapid Italian and Maria laughed and replied back. She gestured to Darcy and said some more quick words before Brock said, “We are both on SHIELD contraceptives.”

Maria shrugged, her black shirt bunching, “They fail.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Darcy sat up quickly and the room spun around her. “What?”

Her arm gestured at Darcy again, “I’ve been through it four times, I know the signs.”

And that was really the beginning of it. Maria pulled Darcy up by the arm and sat her on the lid of the toilet as she hyperventilated. Brock went to the CVS a few blocks over, Estella begging to go with him. And since he couldn’t say no, the young girl was strapped in the back of his SUV. At the store she begged for holiday candy and sparkly headbands. Then they had to buy enough for everyone at the house. Eventually, they made it to the planned parenthood section and she screamed, “ _Are you having a baby?_ ”

He had to bribe her to keep her mouth shut with a favor to be filled in the future. Estella ran to the bathroom and hugged Darcy and kissed her on the cheek. Brock had handed Estella the bag with the test in it and stood outside the door as Darcy peed with his sister and niece in the bathroom with her. 

“I can’t look,” Darcy said, her head between her knees.

“Uncle Brock,” Estella opened the door and ‘whispered’, “Darcy wants you to look.”

“Fuck really?” He moved back into the bathroom right as Julie came around the corner. 

She caught the door before he closed it and walked in, cramping the small room further. “What’s,” her eyes caught the stick on the counter laying on the damp cloth. “Holy fuck, Uncle Brock, you’re going to be in so much trouble.”

“We don’t even know yet,” Maria said gleefully.

Making the decision for all of them, Estella snatched the test off of the counter and cheered. “Give me that,” Brock took it out of her hand and stared at it. 

The door opened behind them all and Isabella stood in the door, “What kind of party are you having in here?” She paused, looked at them all, and squished them all in closer. “Are you kidding me?” She pulled the test out of his hand, “Holy shit, you’re in so much trouble.”

“Let me look,” Darcy wheezed from between her legs. She reached out with her hand and Isabella placed it in her shaking fingers. “We are in so much trouble,” she agreed.

“What’s going on?” Vic poked his head into the bathroom. His eyes went wide and his face lost color, “You’re in so much trouble, young man.” He slowly backed out and they heard him make his way down to the basement, doors banged closed on his way.

Maria looked around the room and held onto Darcy’s shoulder, “Are you alright?”

“I think Uncle Brock’s going to pass out,” Estella said. They all watched as Brock lowered himself into the tub and closed his eyes. “Do you need some candy?” She asked, pulling out a reese’s peanut butter tree. He grabbed the candy and opened it. 

“He’s eating sugar,” Darcy said, her grip unwavering around the positive test. 

“Sympathy cravings,” Isabella said. “He’ll probably have eight percent body fat at the end of your pregnancy.”

“I wonder if he’ll eat the ravioli instead of me,” Darcy said. The room looked at each other and Julie started to wheeze.

“Don’t let Aunt Tina hear you say that,” she covered her mouth and laughed behind her hand.

Brock’s sisters were amazing. They convinced their mother that maybe they should make something other than fish dishes, even taking Brock’s SUV to the market to buy new groceries for her. On their way back, they picked up their grandparents, a huge box of pastries from Rosario’s, and too many pizzas from Giamatti's. 

At dinner, the sisters set up a zoom call with their brothers and their families and had everyone seated at the large formal table. Brock cleared his throat and stood, “We have something to share with everyone,” he started, but of course, _of course_ since she was buzzing with excitement Estella blurted out, “They’re having a baby!”

“ _Estella!_ ” Maria hissed.

“Oops.” She looked around the table, “I’m sorry,” her eyes welled up with tears and she sped from the room. 

Darcy pushed her chair out and walked to find her. When they returned, Brock’s grandmother and grandfather were speaking to him sternly in Italian, his brothers were shouting, his mother was crossing herself, and his nephews were handing over fifty dollar bills to Vic. “You bet on us?” She asked.

“We’re Mancini’s?” Nicky said like it explained everything.

The Italian from the edge of the room was getting louder, Viola was yelling at Gino, Julie was laughing, Maria was laughing, her husband and Isabella’s husband had retreated to smoke on the front porch, and Brock had his head in his hands, taking it all. 

When everyone had settled down, Estella’s tears wiped up, and money for bets exchanged (Brock’s Grandfather came out about four thousand dollars on top because his cousins had bet against Brock and would need to pay up the next night), the family finally dug into their pizza and pastries. 

“So we’re good?” Darcy asked. 

“Ain’t the first Mancini born out of wed-lock,” J.R. said over the computer.

Brock’s hand was heavy on her knee as everyone started to rag on their cousin. And of course, sweetly, innocently, his favorite niece climbed into his lap and hung on his neck before saying, “You know, I think Estella is a good name for a baby.”


End file.
